Thinking is bad. Thinking on Vicodin….?

Twelve in12

Reading
Darkling ~ Yasmine Galenorn
The Saxon Shore ~ Jack Whyte
Uther ~ Jack Whyte

Finished
Mirror, Mirror ~ Gregory Macguire
Witchling ~ Yasmine Galenorn
Changeling ~ Yasmine Galenorn
Something Wicked ~ Catherine Mulvany
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince ~ J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows ~ J.K. Rowling
Myst: Book of Atrus ~ Rand Miller, Robyn Miller and David Wingrove
The Game of Kings ~ Dorothy Dunnett
The Other Boleyn Girl ~ Philippa Gregory

One of my biggest struggles in life has always been balance.  My relationship with Feather exploded (and is on the edge of it again) because it was completely out of balance.  My relationship with Manny was never correctly balanced, hence was doomed to failure.  He and I have only in the past year found the balance that allows us to be so close.  If I have any regrets in life, it is that the balance was not found sooner.  My struggle with bipolarism, at its very core, is a struggle with balance.  I’m depressed, then I rocket to mania and then fall back into depression.  Using medication to manage it is also a balancing act.  Too much and I feel nothing.  Too little and I’m out of control.  There is a balance in work and play.  "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."  I know part of keeping the bipolarism in check is keeping the balance between working and relaxing.

These balancing acts are never perfect.  Its like spinning plates.  You have to be aware of each one, and know when to adjust them to keep everything running smoothly.  If one of the plates falls down, chances are its taking down a few others.  Now that I’ve got most of my plates balanced and spinning, I’m able to see the plates still lying on the ground.  For me, the most obvious one can be seen by reading this diary.  I’m not sure you’d be able to tell that I’m a Christian by my writings.  Predestinationd election-believing, Apostles Creed, Lord’s Prayer-reciting and Jesus-loving Christian.  I don’t feel like I need to prove my faith.  The only person who needs to be convinced of my heart already accepts me.  But I still feel out of balance.

I’m not a cult Christian, or non-Christian-shunning type of person.  I have plently of friends who aren’t Christians, even those who outright bash my faith.  I don’t appreciate it, but they are entitled to their beliefs and their opinions.  These people tend to view me as rather conservative and old-fashioned.  And you know what?  I am.  But in Christian circles, I’m considered (along with my parents) extremely liberal.  My family drinks.  And I don’t mean we empty the sacramental wine after the service.  I mean, we’ve got a flask of our own next to the organ bench.  My father used to smoke when he was younger.  Both he and I curse, although we’re trying to cut that out.  We work on Sundays and do all sorts of "non-Sundayish" things.  We don’t always pray before every meal.  We don’t always eat every meal together.  In more conservative circles, people are shocked that my mother not only works, but has a career away from my father.  These are usually the same people who are more disturbed when they learn she willingly works in public school rather than private Christian and my father works at a Jewish law firm.  I think we’d be the Reformed version of excommunication if they knew my father and I have best friends who are firmly not christian.

I’m not a cult Christian and I’m not brain washed.  If you’re going to start any argument with, "Well, you have to agree, you’re programmed that way," I’m going to ignore you.  (NOTE: The Vicodin and anti-crazy pills are kicking in, so my sentence structure and spelling may deteriorate a bit.)  I’ve argued and fought against everything I’ve been taught.  I’ve come back to this faith though.  I don’t want to be that cultish, stupid, naive follower.  But there is a part of me that wishes I wasn’t considered such a rebel in the Christian community.  This whole going to seminary thing is great.  But I’m not the type of person who constantly talk about God and my faith and how everything is due to Him and His intervention.  I do believe in HIs love and that He will take care of us.  But I don’t believe He pushes the cart out of the way.  I believe He pre=pushes the cart correctly to keep me safe;  Or causes the woman to lose her keys so she doesn’t step off the sidewalk as I’m diriving past.  He’s bigger than giving me a bike or turning off my alarm.

But there is a part of me that wishes I could somehow have that cultish feeling.  That obsessive feeling.  People talk aobut giving up everything they have to God.  Except they still have their car and their clothes and house and internet connection.  (I’ve been reading blogs.)  They aren’t giving everything up.  They are giving some things up.  They are following some of what God is saying to them.  But they aren’t totally and completely being apostles.  Because then they’d be part of that creepy and insane cult I saw on E! today.

There is a balance between obsessed freak with no gripe on reality and healthy relationship with the Maker of All the Universe..  I just don’t have that balance yet.